'Ah, we see now whose hens!' cried the landowner in triumph. 'They're Yermil, the coachman's, hens! he's sent his Natalka to chase them out.... He didn't send his Parasha, no fear!' the landowner added in a low voice with a significant snigger. 'Hey, Yushka! let the hens alone; catch Natalka for me.' But before the panting Yushka had time to reach the terrified little girl the house-keeper suddenly appeared, snatched her by the arm, and slapped her several times on the back.... 'That's it! that's it!' cried the master, 'tut-tut-tut!... And carry off the hens, Avdotya,' he added in a loud voice, and he turned with a beaming face to me; 'that was a fine chase, my dear sir, hey?--I'm in a regular perspiration: look.' And Mardary Apollonitch went off into a series of chuckles. We remained on the balcony. The evening was really exceptionally fine. Tea was served us. 'Tell me,' I began, 'Mardary Apollonitch: are those your peasants' huts, out there on the highroad, above the ravine?' 'Yes ... why do you ask?' 'I wonder at you, Mardary Apollonitch? It's really sinful. The huts allotted to the peasants there are wretched cramped little hovels; there isn't a tree to be seen near them; there's not a pond even; there's only one well, and that's no good. Could you really find no other place to settle them?... And they say you're taking away the old hemp-grounds, too?' 'And what is one to do with this new division of the lands?' Mardary Apollonitch made answer. 'Do you know I've this re-division quite on my mind, and I foresee no sort of good from it. And as for my having taken away the hemp-ground, and their not having dug any ponds, or what not--as to that, my dear sir, I know my own business. I'm a plain man--I go on the old system. To my ideas, when a man's master--he's master; and when he's peasant--he's peasant. ... That's what I think about it.' To an argument so clear and convincing there was of course no answer. 'And besides,' he went on, 'those peasants are a wretched lot; they're in disgrace. Particularly two families there; why, my late father--God rest his soul--couldn't bear them; positively couldn't bear them. And you know my precept is: where the father's a thief, the son's a thief; say what you like.... Blood, blood--oh, that's the great thing!'